Esme's Story
by Novelist505
Summary: This is the story of how Esme changed into a vampire. I hope it's good, but I can't say for myself. Rate and Review, but if it's really that bad, please break it to me gently...lol.


Esme's Story

"Dr. Cullen!" I heard the orderly's call and I turned to stare at him.

"Yes?"

"They want you in the morgue."

I nodded once, wondering why I might be needed in the morgue, but I continued regardless. When I arrived, the morgue seemed empty, except for one very faint heartbeat. I quickly looked around the room, trying to locate the source of the quiet thuds.

Finally, my heightened senses led me to a gurney, covered with starched-white sheet. I reached down and yanked the sheet off. It fluttered to the stone floor. Before me was the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on, in all of my nearly 300 years. Her face was the perfect shape of a heart. Her caramel-colored hair flowed down her shoulders. Tribute to my flawless memory, I recognized this face.

Ten Years Earlier

Even at sixteen her beauty had been breath-taking. I walked into the room and saw her holding her leg, an expression of pain fixed on her face. Although I knew she must be in great pain, I flashed her a smile, in hopes of making her feel a little better. I heard her sharp intake of breath as she stared up at me and she seemed to forget her pain momentarily.

"Let's see what we have here." I muttered as I walked to the table on which the girl sat.

I began to feel her exposed leg, ever so gently, so as to not crush her fragile human body. Feeling the leg, I could tell that it was a clean break. That was good; it would heal more quickly.

"What's your name?" I made small talk with her as I felt around the broken bone.

"Esme." she gasped.

"Esme." I mused, "That's a very pretty name." I told her.

She managed a tentative smile and I assumed that the anesthetic must be starting to take effect. . .

Now, I stared at her glorious face. I was alone. No one would notice if I slipped away with her. It seemed like too much of a waste to not take her. To let her die would be too painful. The thought made me shudder.

With one quick glance around me, I lifted her into my arms and sneaked out of the cold, stone room. Once I was outside, I set into a full-speed run, sticking to the trees and listening carefully to make sure her heart was still beating.

Finally, I arrived home and I slipped in the back door. A second after I entered, Edward was beside me, struggling for control, as Esme was covered in blood. He held his breath, though it did little good and stared at Esme, hungrily, hands balled into tight fists.

"Carlisle," he hissed through his teeth, "What are you doing?"

"I don't have time to explain." I replied evenly, setting Esme easily on the kitchen table we never used. I saw that it was getting increasingly hard for Edward to stay in the room.

"This is too much for you. Go. I'll explain when I can."

As soon as he was out of the room, I turned to Esme and bit her neck-the venom would reach her heart quickest that way. Although I was nearly immune to the smell of blood, tasting it was another matter entirely. It took every ounce of my self-control to pull away from her neck. When I did, Esme cried out in pain. I considered biting her once more, but decided against it when I remembered changing Edward. I felt a rush of guilt at that, because I'd caused him so much more unnecessary pain.

Esme screamed again in pain and I flinched. This was the worst part of changing someone. I hated to cause anyone so much pain.

"Esme." I said softly, as she writhed and convulsed, "I. . .I'm so sorry."

I left the room, quietly promising her that I would be back soon. As I shut the door softly behind me, Edward appeared in front of me, his face more composed, lips pressed together in a thin line. He waited for me to speak.

"I don't know much about her." I began, "Her name is Esme Platt and I treated her once about ten years ago."

He nodded once.

"Why?" he asked.

Although he probably knew what I was about to say before I said it, he courteously allowed me to continue.

"I found her in the morgue-barely alive, I might add-and I could not-would not leave her there to die." I told him.

His eyes searched mine for a moment and I saw realization in his eyes when he saw that I had to save her. I needed to save her. They widened slightly and his stance became more relaxed and casual.

"Okay, Carlisle."

I nodded. Edward was, to me, as much a son as a brother, and I wanted him to have a say in everything as much as I did myself.

He went back to his room and I to the kitchen. Doubting it would do much good, I easily lifted Esme from the kitchen table and took her to the living room. I laid her gently on the couch-the best I could offer, considering our house contained no beds.

I knelt beside her, holding her hand, flinching every time her agonized scream pierced the air, and wishing that there was some way I could ease her pain.

* * *

It would be over soon. That was my only consolation. We were nearing the end of the third day and Esme was already showing signs of "getting better." Her cries of pain had finally stopped.

Nearly an hour later, Esme's eyelids fluttered. Then, they flipped open, revealing blood-red irises. I smiled as she slowly sat up, relieved that the transformation process was finally over.

She stared at me blankly for a moment and then her expression changed to one of confusion.

"Where is he?" she asked in a sweet, innocent voice.

"Who?"

"My baby. My little boy. Where is he?" she demanded.

For a moment, I froze, not because it didn't bother me to stay uncannily still for long amounts of time, but in horror, for I had not bothered to take into account the fact that she might have family.

Edward was in the dark room as soon as he heard my thoughts. Esme grew more and more frantic by the second and I knew that I must calm her down so Edward could make sense of her thoughts. Already, I saw his brow furrowed deep in concentration. Suddenly, realization flickered across his features.

"Esme, I'm so sorry." he told her, and he did sound truly sorry.

"What? What's happened to my baby?" she cried more frantically.

"Esme," he began, kneeling next to her where I had before, "Your son. . .was born premature. He was too young and he. . .didn't make it."

A howl of pure anguish and pain escaped her lips. I sat next to her on the couch.

"I am so sorry." I said sympathetically, "If you'd like some alone time now, I'll go in the next room."

She just nodded, pain in her eyes.

Edward and I went upstairs into one of the rooms and shutting the door, though that would do little to prevent a vampire from hearing us.

"She was married to a Charles Evenson-don't worry," he hurried on as he heard my thoughts, "He won't be a problem. He was abusive and on more than one occasion she thought about leaving him. When she found out that she was pregnant, she finally did, knowing he would react badly.

"A little under a month ago, she gave birth to her son, "Michael David Evenson, prematurely. He didn't survive. She was so grief-stricken that she attempted suicide." Edward explained in a low voice, hoping that Esme would not hear.

I nodded, taking in what he'd said. We arrived back to the living room at a speed that was too fast to be considered running. Just before we entered, a loud crash sounded. I rushed in and saw Esme standing up with a stunned and guilty expression. On the floor was a broken lamp.

"I just tried to turn on the-"

"Esme," I cut her off, "There's something that we need to explain to you."

Edward disappeared for a second and returned holding a small mirror. He handed it to Esme and as she looked into it-though the room was pitch-black-she gasped audibly.

"My eyes! They're so. . .and my face. This isn't my face! What have you done to me?!" she demanded, horror on her face as she put two and two together.

"I saved you." I told her.

A look of incredulity and a mix of other and emotions replaced the horror.

"Remember you jumped off the cliff?" Edward began before Esme could.

She nodded wide-eyed.

"You survived the fall, but the doctors assumed you to be dead. They took you directly to the morgue. Then Carlisle found you. He thought it wrong to leave you.

"I'm sure you can tell that we are a little different than the people you see walking down the street every day. Our eyes, our skin, even the way we move, is different from them. You see, Esme," he pursed his lips, "It's because we are something completely different from the human species. We are. . .vampires."

I scrutinized her face as she stared at me in shock and disbelief.

"I couldn't let you die."-I choked on the word-"I brought you back and I changed you." I frowned at the words.

"No, no, this is a joke, isn't it? A really mean, crazy joke." her breathing grew frantic again.

"No, it's not." Edward told her, "There's your proof."

Esme's expression grew worried and confused. She lifted a delicate, pale hand and touched her throat. Through her confusion, she looked as though she was understanding something for the first time.

"Then, I drink. . .blood, now?" the revulsion was clear in her voice.

I realized how thirsty she must be.

"Yes, but we've found a way to survive without drinking human blood." he explained quickly. "We can drink animal blood and it keeps us nearly as strong as human blood, though it's not nearly as satisfying." A tiny frown played across his face.

"Which reminds me, you are probably extremely thirsty, aren't you?" I wondered.

She quickly shook her head back and forth, a terrified expression etched into her pale features. Edward and I laughed in unison.

"It will be fine. I'll keep you safe." I reassured her, though she was much stronger than me, "But first, you could probably use a change of clothes."

She nodded and I led her to my room. Since I owned no women's clothing, I handed her a white button-up men's shirt and black pants, apologizing for the lack of clothing and I slipped away to give her some privacy. I went to wait with Edward.

When she returned, she looked more beautiful than ever, wearing the oversized men's clothes.

"Ready?" I asked, carefully.

She nodded, the terrified expression creeping back onto her face. I reached a hand towards her and she took it hesitantly. We walked out the door and Edward immediately took off running full speed, showing off just a little. Esme gasped as he disappeared and reappeared a second later, a hundred yards away. I smiled encouragingly at her, still holding her hand, and began a slow trot. She followed and, once she realized how simple it was, began running full speed as well. Every once in a while, she would let out a laugh-an angelic, soft sound-when she saw the extent of what she could do.

Eventually, we came to a clearing in the woods we were running in. A buck and a doe were in the clearing, munching on grass. I peered at Esme in the moonlight and she stared back at me with a worried look. I pressed a finger to my lips and I pulled my hand back from hers. Silently, I entered the clearing. I sneaked up to the buck. I readied myself. . .and pounced. I bit the animal's neck and began to drink.

When I'd finished, I stood to look at Esme, hoping I'd not scared her. She was staring at me with an angelic, nervous smile in place.

"It's your turn." I told her softly, as I took her hand.

She laughed quietly and we set off running. I imagined life really didn't get much better than this. Edward was the son that every man wanted-more than I could have ever asked for, though he didn't believe so. And Esme was. . .perfect. I'd waited for her for 300 years and now nothing could keep us apart.

Life was perfect and I had a perfect family to go along.


End file.
